Moments in a Broom Cupboard
by welcometonerdworld
Summary: Lily finds herself running into James in a broom cupboard more times than can be considered normal. Cover art by viria. COMPLETED.
1. First Year

**First Year**

"Potter!" I yelled furiously, his surname spitting from my mouth as he grinned.

"Evans," he said easily, "How goes it?"

"_Why_," I seethed, "Would you drag me into a broom cupboard with you after curfew? What were you doing out of Gryffindor Tower?"

Let me put this in perspective. I, Lily Evans, Gryffindor first year, was walking back to the dorms from meeting with my best friend when I was unwillingly dragged by an invisible body into a broom cupboard.

The invisible person turned out to be James Potter, also known as Gryffindor first year who I tend not to get on with all too well, on account of the fact that he bullied Severus.

"What were you doing, Evans? Wouldn't expect an innocent one like you wondering around the castle at this time." He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

My temper flared. "I was going back to the dorms, I'll have you know. I was only talking to Severus anyway, not that it's any of your business –"

"Snape?" His expression changed from a casual smirk into a tight frown, "Merlin, Evans, I thought you had some taste –"

I interrupted him. "Oh, come off it, Potter, he's my best mate –"

He laughed teasingly, "Doesn't explain why you were snogging him at eleven in the night –"

"We were _not snogging_, you idiotic pervert," I snapped, my nose wrinkling slightly. Sure, Severus was my best friend, but I'd never fancy him in a million years.

"Sure, Evans. Sure."

"What were you doing, huh?" I demanded, hands on hips.

He lent back against the wall of the broom cupboard and grinned, spreading his arms out wide, "Exploring the castle, of course!"

"Exploring?" I repeated, "What for?"

"Oh, come on Evans," he said, "Don't tell me that this castle doesn't fascinate you."

I crossed my arms and lied through my teeth, shrugging, "It's only school."

He scoffed, "But it's so cool, and massive, and there's so many little things that are just amazing. I've read all about them, the secret passageways and alcoves and shortcuts and –" He stopped abruptly, and even though it was dark I could tell that his cheeks were reddening slightly.

"Sorry," he said, "I get kind of excited about it, that's all."

I tried not to gape. James Potter, losing his cool? James Potter, apologising? This was unfamiliar.

"S'okay, Potter. I guess the castle is pretty cool," I admitted, and his lips quirked upwards.

"Told you," He smirked again, "Well, if I ever find something, I'll be sure to tell you."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward pause in which he ruffled his hair, and then hastily removed his hand from his head when he caught me glaring at it. _God_, I hated that. Why does he feel the need to always look like he's just come off a broomstick? He's not even on the Quidditch team; we're in _first year_.

"Hey, Potter?" I asked suddenly.

"Evans."

"Why'd you drag me in here?"

"Oh," he said, "I thought you were Sirius. We were going to meet here."

My eyes widened, "You mean Black's out here too?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, why?"

I shook my head, "Just surprised that you two haven't been caught, that's all."

"Huh. Going to sell us out to Filch, Evans?" He raised an eyebrow and I flushed. Did he really think I'd do that? Sure, James Potter and Sirius Black were idiots, but I wouldn't tell Filch. We'd just lose points, and Gryffindor's more important than two boys' stupidity.

"No," I said, "I wouldn't do that."

He smiled then – an actual smile, not one of his self-absorbed smirks – and murmured, "Thanks, Evans." He sounded surprised, like he couldn't believe that I wasn't a tattle tale who was going to grass on him the second I could.

Before I could reply, the door burst open, and at the entrance stood Sirius Black.

"James!" He said, "I managed to find this place, it's not huge but –" He broke off as he realised that I was also in the cupboard.

"Evans?" He blinked, "What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing, Black," I smiled, "Just going back to the common room. You two better not get caught, alright? I'm not having points taken off just for your adventures."

I stepped out of the broom cupboard and waved at the pair of them: an astounded Black and a smiling Potter. As I walked back to my dormitory, I wondered about those boys. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.


	2. Second Year

**Second Year**

I'd like to think I'm a pretty nice person. I mean, okay, I have a short temper and only a select bunch of friends, but I'm not outright horrible to anyone. So what did I do to deserve this?

I was sitting outside, next to my best friend. He was telling me all about this new potion he'd read about in the library, and I was happily listening until he broke off. His eyes grew wide and stared at me like I was a Blast Ended Skrewt or something.

"Sev?" I asked concernedly, "You okay?"

"Lily," he said slowly, "What happened to your hair?"

I frowned. It was messy, but it wasn't that bad, right? "What do you mean?" I pulled on a bit of it, moved it round to my face, and gasped.

It was a hideous shade of green, kind of like a cross between Slytherin green and muddy grass green. I gaped at it until I heard a noise behind me, a rustling sound in the bushes.

The words I caught (Evans, crap, James, idiot, Peter) told me all I needed to know: James Potter is an imbecile and his friends are morons.

"POTTER!" I screamed, "I'm going to kill you!"

Severus started to say something, but I ignored him, furious. I sprung to my feet and started to run after the four boys who had come out from behind the bush and who were now running straight towards the school entrance.

I ran faster as they entered the building, and I felt a stitch sear up my side but blanked it. I was going to murder the bloody Marauders. Or at least, I thought I was, until I heard a shout, my vision blurred, and everything went black.

When I woke up, I was slumped in a broom cupboard. I blinked and looked around. I was clearly by myself, and so I sat and scowled for a good five minutes before I heard any noise. I tried getting out, but quickly realised that my wand had been taken and the door was locked. Then came the unmistakable sounds of four second years:

"Sirius, if you think I'm going in there you're mental. Evans will blow my head off!"

"Do you think I give a damn? This was your bloody idea, and you're going to face it –"

"Sirius is right. Where's your Gryffindor courage, James?"

"I don't really care who goes, but _I'm_ definitely not."

"For Merlin's sake Pete, you're the one who knocked me over! Do you all want me to die today?"

"Better you than me."

"You asked for it."

"Sorry, James."

"_Fine_."

There was a click and a thud and James Potter was standing in front of me, hands held up in defence.

"Before you start, Evans, I think you should know that I didn't actually mean to –"

His words broke off as I stepped forward menacingly. I could see him gulping. "Potter," I said quietly, "Before I spontaneously combust, I suggest that you explain what exactly would bring you to charm my hair green." I narrowed my eyes. "Start talking. Now."

He glanced around wildly, eyes panicked. "See, Evans, I didn't actually mean to charm _your_ hair green. Actually," he said, putting a fake smile on his face, "I like your hair. It's very pretty, long and red and wavy and I'd never want to change its colour, at least not deliberately."

I scowled and crossed my arms. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter. I want an explanation."

He sighed, "Okay, so I meant to charm Snivellus' hair red, see, because me and the boys thought that it'd be a laugh, yeah? But Peter accidently knocked me over, so the incantation went messed up and my wand moved and – Evans, please don't hex me."

Hex him? I was going to slit his throat. "Let me get this straight," I said, my tone dangerously calm, "You meant to hit Severus with your bloody spell and instead you hit me?"

"Well, yeah." He said, rumpling his hair in the way that I loathed, "Sounds about right."

"And then, because you were such a scaredy cat, you locked me in here for five minutes until one of you and your fellow tossers could have enough courage to come and face me?"

"Well I –"

"_And_ you still haven't charmed it back?"

"What? Oh, right." He pulled his wand from his robes and muttered a charm, pointing it at my hair. I was still surprised that he'd managed to change my hair colour at all. Colour changing charms were normally fourth or fifth year material, not second.

Potter uttered a few words; there was a jet of light, and then his eyes widened in horror.

"What, Potter?" I demanded, and I pulled a strand of hair from my ponytail for inspection.

Before I could fully comprehend what I was seeing, he was on the run, backing out of the broom cupboard and going full speed ahead down the corridor.

"POTTER!" I screamed, "It's _blonde_. BLONDE!"

He didn't look back for a second, and instead yelled a quick, "Sorry, Evans!" as he turned a corner.

I sprinted after him, cursing the day that I'd met James Potter and became involved in his ridiculous antics.


	3. Third Year

**Third Year**

I left the library in a hurry after having spilt my inkpot all over the table – Madame Pince was going to murder me, and that was before she discovered that this was Scrivenshaft's newest permanent ink that I'd bought on my first Hogsmeade trip. I quickly speed walked back to the Gryffindor common room, only pausing when I heard a noise coming from a broom cupboard. I stopped outside the door, wondering what to do – it sounded like crying. My curiosity got the better of me and I slowly pushed the door open.

"Sirius," said a muffled voice, "I'm not going to talk, so you better just piss off –"

It was Potter. I came forward awkwardly, cutting him off. "I'm not Sirius," I said, "Lily."

"Oh," he said, and I sat down in front of him. Our knees touched and he mumbled, "Well, this is awkward."

"Yeah." I fidgeted slightly on the uncomfortable floor, smoothing out my skirt. I'd never seen Potter like this: undeliberately dishevelled and with shaky breaths and tear tracks on his cheeks.

"Right." He muttered, clearly feeling as uncomfortable as me. I began to regret coming in here – Potter and I were hardly best mates, so what reason did I have for butting in on his business?

I was silent for a second, and then said quietly, "If you want to talk about…whatever's upsetting you, you can talk to me."

"Thanks, Evans." He said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He looked at me for a second and then averted his eyes. They were bloodshot.

"Lily," I corrected, "You can call me Lily."

"Okay," he said.

We sat together for a moment or so, and I listened as his breathing became steadier.

"Lily," he began, "My dad died this morning."

The way he said it, so blunt and outright, made me want to hug him. Stunned, I gripped the hand that was resting on his left knee. "I'm sorry, James."

"It's okay. He led a raid – he's an Auror, you know – and it all went wrong. My mum was in with a different team, so she was fine. But he got hit by the killing curse and…"

His voice broke and I instinctively shuffled round to his side, so that we were sitting next to each other. I held his hand tighter and his head dropped softly on to my shoulder.

I felt a warm drop of liquid land on my shirt.

"He's in a good place now, James," I found myself saying, "A better place."

He took a shaky breath. "You really think so?"

I nodded, and turned my head to look at him. He was slumped over, left hand in mine and hugging his knees to his chest protectively.

"Thanks, Lily."

"It's okay."

He breathed deeply: in, out, in, out. "I'm going home tomorrow."

"For the funeral?"

He nodded against my shoulder. "I have to help my mum," he said, "I'm all she's got left, and she's all I've got left."

"No," I disagreed softly, "You've got us, James."

"What?"

"You've got Sirius. Remus, Peter. You've got Mary, Marlene. Me." My voice became stronger. "You've got all of us, and don't you ever forget it. Okay?"

He straightened up, and as his head left my shoulder I felt a strange sense of loss. "Okay. Lily," he asked, "Do you want to come with me?"

I looked him in the eye. Tears were still swimming in his, threatening to roll over onto his face. "If you want me to come, I will."

"I do."

"Then I'll come."

"Thanks, Lily."

"James Potter, if you thank me one more time, I will not hesitate to hex you."

He let out a watery chuckle at my empty threat and I saw the edge of his lips twitch upwards into something that resembled a half smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less of you." He ruffled his hair with his right hand, "It's good to know that some things never change."


	4. Fourth Year

**Fourth Year**

There was a sort of rustling sound coming from near my head when I woke up. It was dark, and I had no idea where I was. I clearly wasn't in my comfortable four poster up in Gryffindor tower – no, I was on the floor of a room or something, and there was definitely someone else here.

I opened my eyes. "Hello?" I muttered, my voice heavy with sleep. I cricked my neck and raised my head off my arm.

"Oh, good," said a voice, relieved, "You're awake."

I recognised that voice. "Potter?"

"Alright, Evans?"

I sat up, head spinning, and shuffled so that I was leaning against a wall. We were in a broom cupboard, I realised as I looked around. My gaze came to rest on him and I raised an eyebrow.

"Care to explain why I'm in here?" I asked.

He sighed and answered me, "The boys were sick of our arguments so decided to lock me in here. Then they spiked your juice with a Sleeping Draught at lunch, and," He spread his arms, "Here we are."

"Of course." I said, "And you had nothing to do with this plan?"

"If I did, it would not have involved your head hitting the floor as you passed out in the corridor." He said flatly, clearly unimpressed with the plotting of his friends.

"Right." I said. Now that he mentioned it, there was a sort of pulsing pain coming from the back of my head. I rubbed it absentmindedly, "What would you have done, then?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Caught you, maybe?"

My cheeks flushed, and I was thankful that it was dark – at least he couldn't tell. "And how, pray tell, would you have done that?"

"My muscly arms would have caught your fragile body just before you hit the floor." He deadpanned, lips curling into a smirk.

"My knight in shining armour," I quipped sarcastically.

He grinned, "I always knew you wanted me."

I flipped him off, and changed the subject. "So we're in here for arguing, then?"

"Yup." He said flippantly.

"Which argument?" I raised an eyebrow.

Potter barked out a laugh that sounded scarily like Black's. "Who knows, Evans? There's too many to count."

He ran a hand through his hair, and I caught the movement. "Potter?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

I imitated him instead of saying anything, putting my hand at the back of my head and ruffling. He smirked again, and I itched to slap it off his face. "Because it looks cool."

"Sure, Potter." I had the funniest feeling that he was lying.

We sat in silence, and I fidgeted slightly, playing with the fraying sleeve of my jumper and biting my lip.

"Evans?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do we fight so much?"

I sighed, stretching my legs out at a diagonal to his. "I dunno, Potter." I said, "Something about you…"

"What?" The way he looked at me was like he expected me to profess my love for him. Yeah, right.

I smiled slightly, "Irritates me. You get to me, Potter. Don't let it get to your head."

"Oh," he said mockingly, "But it already has."

I was about to retort when the door opened, and a stream of light at the entrance illuminated Sirius, Remus and Peter.

"Hand over the galleons, Wormy," said Sirius, holding out a hand in front of Peter, "I told you they wouldn't snog."

Peter sighed and placed two gold coins in Sirius' palm.

"Sorry about all this, Lily," said Remus, "Wasn't my idea."

I smiled at him, "I know. If it was, it would have been executed much better, of course," I said, sending a smirk towards Sirius.

"You wound me, Evans. Our plan was flawless." Sirius said, holding a hand over the left side of his chest.

"No," I disagreed, standing up, "You probably should have caught me when I fell."

I did not miss the way that Potter smirked at me as I stepped towards the entrance.

"See you later," I nodded at the four of them, and pushed pass Sirius back into the corridor.

"Evans?" Potter called out. I didn't turn around at his voice, but he continued anyway. "It's a nervous habit."

I walked away, and it took me ten minutes to realise that he was talking about his hair ruffling.


	5. Fifth Year

**Fifth Year**

I sat hunched over in a broom cupboard, breathing slowly with my eyes squeezed shut. I wasn't crying anymore – that had ended an hour or so ago – and now there was just a sort of emptiness inside of me. I was shaking.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been in there either; I'd blown up at Potter around about three hours ago, cried over Severus straight after, went up to my dormitory, threw my stuff against the wall and then decided that it was all too much and came down here.

And why I'd picked a broom cupboard was beyond me. Perhaps because I knew that no one was going to come looking here, or maybe because it was quiet and secluded and I didn't have to talk to anyone.

I hugged my knees tighter and tried not to relive it all. Severus had called me _that_. The little word that meant so little from some and so much from him. I should have seen it coming, really, the fact that the prejudice that I'd always known was built up in his head would one day be hurled at me. And Potter hadn't helped things – ruffling his hair and playing with his snitch and looking so damn attractive and asking me out, but all the while acting like such a _prick_.

It didn't matter. None of it mattered. I was alone, friendless and shivering in a broom cupboard, a mixture of anger and bitter sadness gnawing at my stomach and tears prickling at my eyes.

The door clicked and none other than Potter himself entered, shoving a piece of parchment and his wand into his pockets and stepping towards me.

"If you've come to gloat," I began, voice trembling, "You can just get the fuck out now, because I'm not in the mood."

To my surprise, he took a seat across from me. I raised my head slightly from my lap, wiping hastily at my eyes with the sleeve of my robes.

"I haven't come to do anything but apologise," he said quietly, offering me a packet of tissues. I hesitated and then accepted, blowing my nose on one of them.

Attraction, thy name is Lily Evans.

"For what?" I asked, "You didn't call me a Mudblood, did you?"

His eyes darkened. "No, but I was a right prat. I shouldn't have done that to Sniv—I mean, Snape, and I shouldn't have asked you out. It was rude and uncalled for and I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to make it better," I said, looking him in the eye.

"No, it isn't," he agreed, "But it's always a good place to start."

I nodded slowly, and watched his hands move nervously. I could tell that he was itching to run a hand through his hair, and his hesitance made me frown.

He broke the silence. "I wish he hadn't said it."

"What, Severus?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well," I said, cricking my neck, "It was kind of inevitable, in the end."

He rose an eyebrow and I continued. My admission was, in a way, not only to him but to myself. "He hung out with all the wrong people. Slytherins into the Dark Arts – Mulciber and Avery and the likes. I've heard him call other people Mudbloods too, always behind my back, pretending that it never happened. I guess it was only a matter of time before he started thinking like them and calling me the same."

He sighed, "Still. I feel awful knowing that it was partially me that triggered it."

I shook my head. "Not your fault really. It is your fault that you're such a twit, though."

His lips quirked upwards, "An arrogant, bullying toerag? Worse than the giant squid?"

I blushed despite myself, "Words to that effect, yeah."

We were quiet for a moment, until Potter asked, "Are you going to forgive him?"

I mulled over his words. It would be easier to forgive and forget. But I'd given Severus one hundred and one second chances already. It wasn't worth it. "No," I sighed, "I think I'm better off without him and he's better off without me."

"Okay."

"Don't have to sound so pleased, Potter," I joked, and he let out a small chuckle.

"I don't think he's better off without you, you know," he said, "I don't think anyone would be."

"Thanks, Potter."

He smiled at me, without the cocky smirk and the hair ruffling, and I looked at him. James Potter was growing up, as much as he still infuriated me.

"James?"

He blinked at the use of his first name, "Lily." He returned.

"Do you…do you think my blood matters?"

His gaze on me darkened, jaw becoming set and hands clenching into fists at his sides. "No," He said in a low tone, "It doesn't, Evans. Your blood is just the same as mine, or Marlene's, or Sirius', or anyone's." He expelled a sharp breath, "And don't you dare ever think otherwise."

I reached out to touch his fist. The motion surprised us both and his hand loosened. "Thanks, James."

"Just telling the truth."

I let my hand drop back to my side and I smiled sadly. "We should probably get back."

He nodded and rose, offering me a hand up. I shook it off and came to my feet.

"I really am sorry, Evans." He said, hand travelling again up to the back of his neck. I could tell that he wasn't kidding. His eyes roamed over my face, looking for the words that I was holding back.

I sighed. "So am I, Potter. So am I."


	6. Sixth Year

**Sixth Year**

I was walking back slowly from the kitchens, munching on a Pumpkin Pasty. It had been a long day. I'd had an excess of homework, too many boring lessons _and _a detention (I'd overslept the day before and showed up twenty minutes late for Arithmancy).

On top of all that, my investigations showed that there was no food to be found in my dormitory, so I had to make a little trip down to the kitchens. I had left before curfew, but accidently got chatting to one of the house elves who seemed to want to know my entire life story, and before I knew it, it was eleven thirty and I was tiptoeing around the second floor back to Gryffindor Tower.

I ambled back slowly, trying not to make too much noise and I froze in my tracks as I heard a voice.

"Nobody down here, Mrs Norris? No matter, we'll try this corridor…"

The voice was getting louder and I realised with horror that it was Filch. Swearing under my breath, I looked around wildly and spotted a broom cupboard just up the corridor. I tried not to sprint towards it as I dived in, shutting the door behind me.

I slumped to the floor, heart beating at double time, and took a deep breath. This sneaking around at night thing? Yeah, it's not really for me. My breathing slowed and I nibbled on my pasty, straining my ears to listen for Filch.

Then, I heard footsteps, fast-falling and heavy. I gulped and bit at my lower lip – I was so screwed.

The door burst open and a silhouette entered, shutting it carefully behind them and letting out an expletive.

The person clearly hadn't noticed me, and it obviously wasn't Filch if he or she was swearing like that. I let out the breath I hadn't realised I was holding and said quietly, "Hello?"

Big mistake. The body jumped violently and crashed into a bucket which they tripped over, landing on me so that I was knocked down to the ground. I winced at the loud crash that we made. There was no way we were going to get out of this alive – not with this noise and Filch wondering around.

Then my eyes widened as I realised just who was practically lying on top of me.

"Potter?" I asked, and he gaped.

"Evans, what the bloody hell are you doing here?" His eyes were bemused behind his rectangular glasses and I shifted uncomfortably under him.

"Hiding from Filch. What are _you_ doing here?" I raised my eyebrows.

"The same, of course." He stood up and held out a hand to help me up. I accepted, and looked mournfully at the remains of my crumbled pasty on the floor. Trust James Potter to mash it to pieces.

"Why are you out –" I began, only to have his hand slap over my mouth. I was about to shove it away when I heard it: Filch was coming this way.

"Do me a favour and shut up, Evans," he whispered, and before I could say anything he'd leant down, picked up a cloak that I hadn't noticed before, and stepped towards me.

"What are you –" He cut me off again with a pleading look and a finger held to his lips. I stopped speaking and he swung the cloak around us.

"Potter," I hissed, "I don't know what the hell you're playing at, but—"

"This is my invisibility cloak, Evans," he whispered, "Questions later, and _please _keep your mouth shut."

Invisibility cloak? How the hell did he get one of those?

He'd only just finished speaking when the door of the broom cupboard opened, and Filch entered accompanied by his cat. He started crooning to his cat, asking her if anyone was here (bloody crazy, that man), and James and I held our breaths, not wanting to make any noise that could give us away.

It then dawned on me just how close we were. His chest came level with my head and his arms were around my neck, pulling on his invisibility cloak so that it covered the both of us. His eyes were on me too, I noticed, looking up at him as he stared at me, motionless.

Filch's cat was crawling closer and closer now, and I resisted the urge to kick or hex it. I bit my lip as it came towards us.

"Anyone here, my sweet?" Filch addressed his cat.

Mrs Norris sniffed the air once, twice, and then turned. Filch guided his cat from the broom cupboard and the door shut with a soft thud.

The two of us stayed frozen for a few seconds, listening carefully as Filch's footsteps died away. Then, when we were sure that he and his stupid cat weren't going to come back, we stepped apart. James removed his cloak off us and ran a hand through his hair. I wiped nervously at the beads of sweat that dotted my forehead.

He caught my eye. "You've got to promise that you don't tell about the cloak, Evans." His voice was low, and serious.

I frowned, "How did you get it anyway? I've heard that those are really rare."

"Family heirloom," he said, "My dad gave it to me in first year."

I nodded in comprehension. That was pretty cool, the only 'family heirloom' I had was Petunia's hand-me-down tops.

"So," I said, after an awkward pause in which he shuffled his feet and I bit my lip, "Should we go back to the dorms, then?"

James laughed. "Yeah, I suppose. Come on, Evans."

He led me from the broom cupboard, and we were already half way back to Gryffindor Tower when I realised that we were holding hands.


	7. Seventh Year

**Seventh Year**

I have recently acquired a problem. His name is James Potter, and the first part of the problem is that I fancy him. The second part is that he stopped fancying me at the beginning of the year, or maybe even before that. The third part is that I'm too scared to ask him out, and the fourth part is that no matter how obvious I am, he doesn't seem to be picking up on it.

Exhibit A: our patrols. We were walking along the fifth floor corridor, looking for students out of bed after curfew (ah, the life of a hypocrite), and I was laughing loudly at a joke that he had made. Isn't the way that I laugh at everything he says enough of an indication that I want to snog him? Apparently not if you're as oblivious as James Potter.

Oh, the things I would do to tug on his Gryffindor tie and put my hands in his hair and my lips on his lips…

Anyway, we were walking along, playing 'I Spy', a Muggle game that I had taught him at the beginning of the year, when suddenly I felt a tug on my shirt. Some invisible thing picked me up and I screamed. What the hell was going on? I looked over at James who was wrestling with another invisible thing. From the yelping I could hear, it was clearly a person.

"Padfoot," James wheezed as he hit blindly in the air, "If you don't fucking put me down now, I swear I'll tell Moony all about what happened to the chocolate –"

"Don't you fucking dare," said a voice I recognised as belonging to Sirius Black, "He'll kill me!"

The person who I was still kicking froze. "What happened to the chocolate supply?"

"Remus!" I yelled, "Put me down!"

"Sorry, Lily," he said, "But this is for your own good."

"Bloody – what?" Before I could say anything else, he'd carried me over to a door of a broom cupboard. Another invisible person which I supposed was Peter wrenched it open and they shoved me inside. I tripped at the entrance and tumbled in.

As I hit the hard ground, I felt a searing pain in my knee and groaned. Before I could get up, a body came falling through the entrance and landed hard on top of me.

"Ow," I said, looking up. James was hovering over me, breathing hard as I fidgeted.

I heard the door slam shut and a whooping sound from one of the boys. I scowled.

"Hi, Lily," James said breathlessly, and my scowl changed into a smile.

"Hi, James," I returned, "Mind getting off me?"

He blushed and sat up, and I moved to sit next to him. "Sorry," he said, "We seem to find ourselves in broom cupboards rather a lot, don't we?"

"We do indeed. Why did the boys put us in here?"

He shrugged, "No idea. It's not like we've been fighting recently, and that's the only reason they've done this before," he said, smiling slightly, "Remember fourth year?"

"All too vividly," I laughed. I'd have to remember to thank Remus, Peter and Sirius for dumping us in here – after I'd strangled them, of course.

"I recall flirting stupidly with you about catching you when you fell?" He grinned.

I imitated him. "I recall flirting stupidly back at you."

His laugh faded and I cocked my head upwards and left to look at him. James Potter had grown up, and it was part of the reason why I fancied him so much. His hair, perpetually uncontrollable, no longer irritated me but instead I'd found a sort of affection for it. His jaw line and cheekbones were clearly defined, not as much as Sirius with his trademarked Black ones, but still gorgeous enough for me to stare at all through my Charms lessons.

He smirked at me, hazel eyes smug behind his glasses, and I tried to stop myself from melting into a puddle. Merlin, I was absolutely hopeless.

"Lily," he said in a low voice, "I need to ask you something."

"Yes?" I said breathlessly, and internally slapped myself. I was a strong, independent woman and did not need James Potter to snog me because of my raging hormones.

Right?

"Lily," he continued, "Can I kiss you?"

I blinked – once, twice. My mouth dropped open. "But…but I thought you didn't fancy me anymore." I frowned.

His eyebrows rose and he said incredulously, "Are you mental? What would make you think that?"

"Oh, I dunno," I scoffed, "Maybe the fact that I've fancied you for ages? And I've been very obvious about it? And you haven't asked me out?"

"Obvious?" he repeated, "How exactly have you been obvious?"

"Honestly, James! The constant flirting, the shorter skirt, the hair twirling, the makeup wearing? No? Are you really _that_ oblivious?"

"Well, I just figured that you fancied someone else! Someone, I dunno, like Amos from Hufflepuff or Max from Ravenclaw, or even Remus!"

"Remus? James, the only person I've thought about snogging in the last, I don't know, _three years_ has been you! You, the bloody idiot who's my friend one day and this toerag the next, who I have serious conversations with and ridiculous arguments. It's always been you, James bloody Potter, and I don't know what the hell I'm going to have to do to get it through your thick head – mpffff."

My rant was cut off by his mouth. His lips locked with mine and I froze for a second. Was this really happening? I leant into the kiss, turning my head an inch and pulling on his tie like I'd dreamed of for the past few months. His hands moved into my hair and I shuffled closer to him, moving my hands to clasp each other at the back of his neck.

The kiss was like I'd always imagined: explosive. My eyes flickered shut and there was a swooping sensation in my stomach as we broke apart. His lips moved down to kiss my neck, dotting here and there, igniting my skin. I moaned slightly and he smirked against the curve of my neck.

"James," I whispered, and he pulled up to look at me, resting his forehead against mine. Our breaths slowed and we breathed the same air, the tips of our noses touching so that I had the urge to grin.

"Yes?" He murmured. We were so close that his lips brushed over mine lightly, sending tingles down my spine.

"I fancy you a lot."

He smirked, and I pecked his lips. "I fancy you too, Lily."

I beamed. He took his forehead off mine and held my hands in his.

"Lily?"

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "Will you go out with me?"

I smirked, mimicking the one that I'd so often seen on his face. "Yes."

Five minutes later, Sirius, Remus and Peter found us snogging against the wall. They feigned disgust and laughed at our dishevelled appearances, but all three of them winked at me when James wasn't looking.

The five of us walked back to the Gryffindor common room, my left hand held loosely in James' right. I was intercepted by my friends, who dragged me straight up to our dormitory without a goodbye.

"Well," I said in response to their interrogation, "It's not like I've never been in a broom cupboard with James Potter before." I smiled fondly. "Actually, it happens rather a lot, now that I think about it."


End file.
